


Storm

by ILikeTheRain



Category: Cursed (TV 2020)
Genre: Fluff, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Love, M/M, One Shot, Protectiveness, Redemption, Some Plot, lancelot is squirrel’s dad i will not be taking questions at this time, squirrel is a deadly cinnamon roll
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:40:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25812949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ILikeTheRain/pseuds/ILikeTheRain
Summary: Lancelot and Percival travel and bond. Percival doesn’t want him to leave.
Relationships: Squirrel | Percival & The Weeping Monk | Lancelot (Cursed), Squirrel | Percival/The Weeping Monk | Lancelot (Cursed)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 109





	Storm

**Author's Note:**

> Not proof read.

“Lancelot.” He told the boy, the name feeling strange on his lips.

“A long time ago, my name was Lancelot.”

A few months had passed since they escaped from the camp where Lancelot had slain his own kind. Betraying his former brothers and leaving them behind.

Every day since had felt so bizarre to him. Without orders, and with out the need to purposely numb himself to slay others. Without Father Carden poisoning his mind with twisted ideologies and false affirmations. 

Lancelot felt... he didn’t know how to feel. Lost? Definitely, he thought. But also a strange sense of relief. An immense pressure lifted. A feeling of independence and freedom suddenly becoming more apparent to him, day by day as he processed what he did back at the camp.

But there was another emotion. Not one that circled around him entirely. It was someone else that was causing this emotion. A boy.

Protectiveness. 

The boy’s tenacity, bravery and determination. He had first seen it the very day he met him. His first interaction with the boy. People usually cowered in front of the monk, even when he did not have murderous intentions. Towering over most people, with his weeping eyes and soulless expression, people felt an overwhelming sense of fear. The stories of his bloodshed, his skills and power. He made grown men piss themselves in fear at the very sight of him.

But not this little boy. Incapacitating his tiny frame with one hand, Lancelot had expected the child to answer his questions. Cower in fear and cry out for mercy.

Instead the boy threatened him albeit with a tremor in his voice, of course fearing for his life, but still a fiery determination in his eyes. He spat back in his face, not wanting an ounce of his Mercy. All of this bravery in one tiny little boy. One loyal, clever and lively young boy. 

Over the weeks, Lancelot couldn’t help but soak up some of the happiness. Little by little, an attachment grew for the boy. One that he had not authorised.

He theorised this was happening because he was hardwired to protect and defend. To serve a group and do anything for them. He thought maybe it was all he knew, but with new feelings of happiness and contentment he couldn’t find it in him to care.

Their first plan was to find their way back to the Fae. Lancelot had set it out for him to drop Squirrel off and then leave him with absolutely no direction. He had this plan set in his mind for the first few weeks of their travels despite the fact he didn’t want to see the boy go. When they were starting to come close to where Percival knew the camp was, he told him what was happening in his usual blunt, gruff manner.

“You should take the food we have with you. Your clan might be running low if they’re away from their village.”

Percival looked up at him from across the campfire, his small features illuminated by the flames. They sat, eating the remnants of their meal together in a small clearing of the forest.

“What?” He questioned, tilting his head adorably in confusion. Lancelot found his child mannerisms amusing. He had met very few children in his life, being taken away from his village since he himself was a boy. He could see now, how easy it was for parents to fall into being overbearing and overprotective. Lancelot already felt the need monitor his every move. When they parted ways he knew he was going to be anxious.

“When we arrive, I’m going to drop you off. You can tell them you escaped yourself. I’ll leave for the next village.”

“No!” Percival yelled, the child’s high-pitched tenor, ringing out through the clearing.

Lancelot stared back at him, eyes wide. What had he done to upset the boy? Did he want him captured and executed by the Fae afterall? It didn’t seem unlikely with the boy’s fierce loyalty. Maybe he deserved it, he thought. If this boy believed so, he’d probably be in agreement at this point for his demise.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

They were both silent for a moment, staring at each other with many different thoughts rushing through their minds. Percival broke it after a few seconds.

“You’re... you’re Fae aren’t you? You can come and live with us!”

Lancelot shook his head dismissively.

“I am not your kind.”

“They’ll be happy you saved me! I’ll make sure they let you stay. They’ll listen to me. They all think very highly of me you know!” The boy said, a proud little grin on his face.

Lancelot returned his smile with a very slight quirk of his lips. But yet again, he shook his head.

“No, Percival.”

Percival’s face fell at this, and then after a moment, his face became a strange hybrid of anger and sadness.

“I don’t want you to go.” 

Lancelot was surprised by this. Sure, he protected and fed the boy these past few weeks, but he hadn’t imagined the attachment was mutual. He felt a strange upwelling of emotion.

“I can’t stay.” He told him.

“Then I’ll come with you.” Squirrel replied.

This floored Lancelot. He wasn’t expecting this from the boy after speaking so proudly of his kind, again and again.

“But they’re you’re people. Why would you want to travel with me?”

“Because I’m old enough now to go on adventures and fend for myself.” 

“This is not an adventure” Lancelot told him sternly.

Squirrel ignored him. “I like my village but its time I leave for my own travels and see new lands. They’ll miss me of course, but they’ll understand!”

Lancelot had no patience for this.

“Ridiculous.” He muttered. “Why can’t you find a way to do this another time? With a different person? Why with me?”

“Because, I like you.”

Lancelot actually blushed. He felt his insides warm at the boy’s words. He stared back at him in surprise for a moment. He then scoffed and threw the remnants of his cut of meat into the fire. It spat and hissed. He stared down at the ground for a while. Percival went back to happily munching on the last of his cut.

Lancelot got up and began to pack their things, hooking it back onto their horse.

Squirrel got up after him, throwing his left overs in the fire. Lancelot mounted, and then pulled Percival up in front of him, returning to their previous riding position so Percival doesn’t fall.

“We’re going back to your camp.”

“Hmph.” Percival huffed, folding his arms and staring straight ahead, a scowl on his face.

Lancelot felt his lips turning up slightly again.

* * *

Lancelot knew something was off. They could clearly see the camp in the distance now, and were close enough that they should be hearing voices.

But all was silent.

Lancelot was immediately on guard, his hand going to the hilt of his sword. He picked up the boy, causing him to yelp in surprise and placed him behind himself on the horse. Percival peeked out from behind him.

“They should be here!” Squirrel whispered.

“Shh.” 

They slowly approached, the horse’s hooves clopping quietly against the soft earth. 

Once they were right outside the cave, Lancelot hopped off, hand on hilt, making sure the horse and child were concealed from view of the entrance. He crept in, slowly, looking everywhere around him.

Nothing. 

The further he went in, still not a sound. It was vacant. The must have relocated after the Red Paladins caught word of their base.

Lancelot went back. Percival stood in the entrance with a dagger in hand, stolen from Lancelot’s weapons pouch on the mount.

“Why would they leave? I actually liked this stupid cave.”

“They’ve probably gone east. Close to where their old village was. They could be rebuilding or maybe they’re starting fresh in a clearing close by the ruins” Lancelot was talking mostly to himself, brow furrowed in concentration.

“That’s just a guess though.. They could be anywhere...” Lancelot muttered, again to himself, staring ahead at nothing.

He mounted the horse with the child again.

“Oh well.” Said Percival with a mock sigh. “I guess we’ll both be seeing that ‘nearest village’ now.” 

Lancelot made a grunt and started back towards the dirt road they were on.

* * *

It wasn’t long before the pair had to settle down again for the night. Lancelot had found another space in the forest for them to sleep, hidden away from anyone travelling on the dirt road. They still had a full day’s journey tomorrow to get to the next village. Lancelot was running out of food, and they would need to resupply very soon.

Both males slept, until Percival was awoken by a massive clap of thunder. The boy leapt up in fear, a look of terror on his face. It took only a few minutes before it began to lash from the heavens, heavy rain pelting down on both of them and their cloaks spread out on the earth as bedding.

Lancelot was awake now, grabbing his and Percival’s cloaks and the horse by his reins, rushing into the forest for shelter. The curls of his hair stuck to his forehead.

“Percival” He yelled. “Come on, over here!”

Percival scurried over to shelter, where the monk was standing. Lancelot grabbed Percival’s cloak and wrapped it around the boy trying to dry him off with it. It was then that he noticed the boy’s trembling.

“Percival?” 

Percival looked up at Lancelot, eyes wide as saucers, tears streaming down his cheeks and a look of pure terror on his face. 

Lancelot immediately became undone.

“Percival! Whats wrong?”

“I don’t like it-“ Percival broke out into a sob, his little face scrunched up in misery. Lancelot instinctually reached out to him. He didn’t even have time to realise what he was doing before he had gathered up Percival into his arms, and held him to his chest.

“Shhh.. I know, shh...” He murmured at his ear, holding the boy together as his small frame trembled and shook with sobs.

Lancelot pressed his face into the boys hair, rocking him in his arms gently. He hadn’t ever shown affection like this to someone before. Not once in his life. He had not even hugged the boy before this. But with the young Fae afraid and vulnerable, his emotional barriers were easily broken down. Percival had that effect on him. Almost like he was bringing back his humanity, day by day.

Lancelot took him over and sat by a tree, still clutching him to his chest. Percival hid in his neck. The storm still surged on. He looked up at the rain pelting down at the leaves above, and watched flashes of lightning in the distance. Percival still jumped every time thunder clapped and Lancelot always followed it with a comforting “Shh..”, cuddling the boy closer to him.

After 20 minutes the storm began to die down. Lancelot made Percival count the distance in between the lightning and thunder as to show him it was starting to fade.

“That one was 20 seconds. See Percival? Its going now. Soon it will be over for good.”

Percival didn’t say anything. Just counted the numbers in his head as he rested his head against the monk’s chest. Soon the storm was over and the rain had dissipated to a drizzle. Percival’s heart began to finally slow and his breathing began to steady again. Soft little hiccups still came now and then from his big heaving sobs earlier on. 

Lancelot chuckled.

“The bravest boy in the world, standing up to fierce warriors, threatening deadly assassins and taking down Red Paladins with rocks” Lancelot felt himself smile. Maybe even more than a slight quirk of his lips this time. “And you’re scared of a measly storm?”

Percival sniffled and then rolled his eyes.

“I’ve always hated them.Even when I was a kid.” 

Lancelot chuckled again.

“Okay, I’m still a kid.. but its never gone away. Even after years.”

Lancelot nodded, understanding the boy’s partiality

“Everyone has a fear.”

Yes, that’s true Lancelot thought. He always considered himself fearless. Ever since he had joined the Red Paladins. The years of training, the years of blood, sweat and tears to become their greatest weapon. He became so powerful that he had no fear. But now he knew it was different. 

Different, for if he were to ever lose this young boy in his arms, he was fairly certain it would destroy him. It was his one weakness. His one huge fear.

After a few minutes Percival’s breathing seemed to even out completely. Lancelot looked down to find the boy fast asleep once again. He ran a hand over the boys hair.

Lancelot spread out his very large cloak onto the ground. He then layed down on his back with Percival and wrapped Percival’s cloak around them both. He kept his arms encircled around the boy, wanting to keep him comforted if he awoke in fear again. Percival slept soundly on his chest and Lancelot let out a sigh.

He looked up at the stars. The universe was so vast and unending. So unexplainable yet incredibly beautiful. Bright and spectacular. He had a million questions for it. The stars winked back at him with a knowing twinkle. 

Staring out at the night sky, he wondered what the universe had in store for him. What his life was going to be like now. With everything up in the air and unknown, he at least finally has knowledge of one thing. 

He finally knows what it feels like to love.


End file.
